And we won. Pure and simple. No one can take that away. We came, we played, we conquered. We went back to the grounds that night, as the Old Boys treated us at the nearby place. And we marvel at what we've done. The hard work, the loss earlier in the season. But "we fought back", as Leonard'd rightly put, and that's it. That’s the beauty of it all: the sheer satisfaction of this single fact that we've beaten everyone and the odds, to emerge winners of the day.
But is it that important? It’ll maintain for months, but it'll fade into oblivion. It’s just one competition out of so so many competitions, out of so many human endeavors. Whether your side or the other side wins doesn’t matter. It’ll just be an insignificant passing remark in your entire scheme of things.
But who doesn’t like winning? I would rather win than lose. That’s why I’m guiltily happily feeling the fleeting moment of everything’s gone right.
